


Red Roses for Ruibby

by valancyjane74



Series: Five Years Later (post quinquennium) [7]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: $10 words, Bad Poetry, Diary/Journal, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Hatred of Rooftop Peacocks, House Elves, Limericks, MacD, MacRu, Poetry, Post-Hogwarts, Requited Unrequited Love, Romance, Roses, Very slight Ron-bashing, arcane English, eloquent elves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-14 23:55:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29427039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/valancyjane74/pseuds/valancyjane74
Summary: Valentine's Day, 2003.Free Elf Macdolas (major-domo of Malfoy Manor) has been hopelessly in love with the fair Ruibby since he first clapped his oversized eyes on the new elven housekeeper, falling head-over-heels for her... quite literally, as he’d been in such haste to declare his newfound affections that he’d missed a step in his reckless descent of the central staircase and bounced like a rubber snitch to sprawl at Ruibby’s tiny feet.Sadly, 'the course of true [elfish] love never did run smooth'...A little Valentine's Day offering, taken from Macdolas's diary (with just a hint of foreshadowing for the parent Dramione fic).
Relationships: (implied) Draco Malfoy/Hermione Granger, Lucius Malfoy/Narcissa Black Malfoy, Macdolas/Ruibby
Series: Five Years Later (post quinquennium) [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1821316
Comments: 9
Kudos: 9





	Red Roses for Ruibby

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Nusquam aliud est vertere (Nowhere else to turn)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23994118) by [valancyjane74](https://archiveofourown.org/users/valancyjane74/pseuds/valancyjane74). 



> Valentine's Day, 2003.
> 
> Free Elf Macdolas (major-domo of Malfoy Manor) has been hopelessly in love with the fair Ruibby since he first clapped his oversized eyes on the new elven housekeeper, falling head-over-heels for her... quite literally, as he’d been in such haste to declare his newfound affections that he’d missed a step in his reckless descent of the central staircase and bounced like a rubber snitch to sprawl at Ruibby’s tiny feet.
> 
> Sadly, 'the course of true [elfish] love never did run smooth'...
> 
> A little Valentine's Day offering, taken from Macdolas's diary (with just a hint of foreshadowing for the parent Dramione fic).

Excerpt from the journal of Free Elf Macdolas of the Clan Fhionnlaigh, major-domo of Malfoy Manor.

* * *

_Friday 14 February 2003_

_5.30AM_

MacD rises early to harvest the reddest roses from the garden; last night the Lambent Lady Malfoy benevolently grants MacD permission to cut ‘as many blooms as he wishes’ from the rampant shrubs. Darlingest Ruibby is sure to appreciate this tender token of MacD’s most profound, pure, patient, passionate, and perfectly principled adoration!

_6.12AM_

Due to a slight oversight in forgetting to wear thick gloves, MacD must seek medical attention from Mizrabel before commencing his regular manservant duties. ‘Tis fortunate indeed that the bright crimson hue of the roses exactly matches MacD’s accidentally shed blood from the vicious thorns…

Ex-Lord Malfoy witnesses MacD’s unscheduled entrapment in the rose bush and reluctantly intervenes, calling him an ‘asinego’ whilst wielding the freeing secateurs. Possibly this term means ‘enthusiastic gardener’ in another language? A dozen of the finest scarlet roses are now safely trimmed and bundled, awaiting delivery to the beautiful Ruibby’s chambers later today.

_6.57AM_

Checked three old dictionaries in the Manor’s library before discovering that ‘asinego’ means ‘silly little ass’! (as in the donkey, not MacD’s finely-shaped buttocks).

Ever-cognizant of his vaunted status as the courteous chamberlain of Malfoy Manor, MacD stoically refrains from pointing out to ex-Lord Malfoy that _MacD_ is not the dippy denizen roaming the gloaming gardens at six o’clock in the morn, chasing snowy peacocks hither and thither and shouting vitriolic abuse at the proud fowls!

MacD finds the word ‘jobbernowl’ ( _numbskull_ or _nincompoop_ ) whilst perusing the etymological tomes and reserves it for future comebacks.

_8.10AM_

First sighting of the pulchritudinous Ruibby at breakfast; MacD is so stunned by her effervescent beauty and grace that he does trip and drop ex-Lord Malfoy’s favourite coffee cup on the floor (the wretchedly ugly one with the open-fanged coiling snake design that sweetest Ruibby refuses to touch – and who could blame the darling?! The horrid beastie mug looks positively venomous, MacD himself shudders to transport it from the kitchens to the breakfast parlour each morning, though he be brave of heart and mind), thus spattering the former patriarch with hot java and smashing the cup to ‘effing smithereens’, according to a certain _jobbernowled_ wizard, who also has the cruel temerity to accuse MacD of _deliberately_ dousing him and destroying the crockery!

Lovely Lady Malfoy tells her cantankerous spouse to not be a drama queen, to which he replies, “Drama _king,_ my Cissa,” though Lady Malfoy does be having the right of it. ‘Twas but a matter of moments before MacD did vanish the spilled coffee and unenthusiastically restore the cup to its previous (appalling) intact reptilian china state, though to hear ex-Lord Malfoy complain, he be near blinded by a few specks of the warm beverage splashing into his chilly grey deadlights.

The beautiful blonde enchantress Ruibby coolly bids MacD good morrow; she deigns to enquire after his visibly perforated digits, seemingly mistrustful of his hastily-fabricated excuse of an unanticipated encounter with a dicker of biting Doxies in the cellar.

“Doxies require a steady hand and even steadier reflexes,” says she, likely obliquely referring to MacD’s recent mishap with the Dread Snake Cup. “Ruibby must insist on accompanying Macdolas on any future Doxy-ridding expeditions.” MacD struggles to stifle his elated grin at the prospect of spending more time with his precious sweetie pie (though his strong abhorrence of cobwebs and their arachnid occupants will dilute the romantic aspect of their cellar-bound party somewhat).

_11.04AM_

MacD’s first attempt to deliver the roses fails, as the _smellfungus_ * Kevyn accosts him whilst transporting the bouquet, insisting that the blossoms are destined to grace the dining table for the semi-familial Malfoy dinner this evening! MacD fights to keep possession of the flowers and stave off Kevyn’s grabby mitts, causing Lady Malfoy to intervene in their high-pitched stoush; she orders temporary elfin separation and some peace and quiet “ _pour la amour de Merlin_ ”. MacD brings the roses back to his room to regroup.

*[another fine word learned in the library today, meaning an excessively fault-finding person].

_3.16PM_

MacD despairs of ever successfully supplying his posy of passion to the adorable apple of his eye! Every time he tries to sneak the bunch into her quarters, he be stymied by busybodies and meddlers. Ex-Lord Malfoy [spitefully] sends MacD on a fruitless mission [fool’s errand] to hang multiple fake owl effigies from the Manor’s eaves, though MacD stridently advises his ex-Lordship that the resident peacocks have long since grown accustomed to delivery owls and lost all fear of the flying messengers. “Macdolas,” says he, “do I, or do I not, pay your salary?”

“You do not, Master ex-Lord Malfoy,” replies MacD. “Master Lord _Draco_ Malfoy provides renumeration, as befits his status as the current Malfoy nobleman.”

Ex-Lord Malfoy growls something rudely incomprehensible in French before Her Lyrical Ladyship arrives and whisks him away. MacD dutifully hangs the silly owl statuettes, laughing when King Blizzard kicks them to bits from the rooftop.

_5.35PM_

MacD rejoices, for the roses hath been delivered at last! Darlingest Ruibby is yet busy in the kitchens; MacD is a-tremble with anticipation of her reaction to his gifts of the bounteous blooms, plus the double set of amethyst hair clips MacD commissions (the stones being a perfect match for her shrewd, sparkling violet eyes).

In an effort to occupy his frenetic mind, MacD wanders back to the library to research more archaic insults for the next time ex-Lord Malfoy compares him to the backside of a mule, only to come upon young Master Draco Malfoy completely absorbed in the pages of his old Hogwarts yearbooks. MacD does attempt to quietly withdraw from the abode, but Master Draco bids him come sit for a while.

“Macdolas, how goes your courtship of the fair – and fierce – Ruibby? Has she accepted your gifts this year, or will you be rescuing them from the rubbish bin once more?” he caustically asks, though he swiftly follows his sharpish query with an apology for MacD’s sensitive feelings.

“I’m sorry, Macdolas… I too know how deeply unrequited love can cut.” Young Master looks to his lap and carefully traces the outline of a photograph; MacD stealthily peers closer until he sees it depicts the Golden Trio standing before the decimated Hogwarts castle after the Battle, though Master Draco snaps shut the book before MacD can exactly discern which figure* drew his interest.

The Level-headed Lady Malfoy enters before MacD can tactfully coax more salient details from Master Draco. Her Lovely Ladyship exclaims at Master Draco’s early arrival, wondering aloud why he does not have better plans for Valentine’s Day than to join his mother for supper. Master Draco brazenly uses MacD as an excuse to escape his loving mother’s gentle probing into his affairs of the heart, claiming MacD wishes a private audience to discuss his amatory troubles.

Before MacD can indignantly protest being reeled into Master Draco’s tissue of lies, he is whisked upstairs to Master Draco’s old quarters and teased about his love of writing limericks in honour of his sweetest Ruibby.

MacD should know better than to give in to Master Draco’s assertations of sincere interest in his latest poetic masterpiece, but his modest ego does get the better of his good sense; he orates his special Valentine’s Day verse for the Master’s entertainment, complete with practised complementary gestures:

_‘A poem for my dearest Ruibby_

_Whose eyes are so very pretty_

_Her nose is quite long;_

_Each nostril, a song –_

_Macdolas is glad they’re not zitty!’_

Master Draco laughs so violently he falls off his bed and collapses on the floor. MacD tries to stalk off in high dudgeon, but Young Master stays his affronted exit with a hand to his shoulder.

“Macdolas, I apologize – but for the love of Snakes, I beg you to keep that poem under revision… May I suggest an alternative, one that is sure to soften the hairiest of elfin hearts?”. He rummages in his bedside chest of drawers, unearthing a slim volume that falls open to a page bookmarked with a faded red ribbon. “Here,” he offers.

‘The Secret’ by John Clare (1793-1864)

_‘I loved thee, though I told thee not,  
Right earlily and long,  
Thou wert my joy in every spot,  
My theme in every song._

_And when I saw a stranger face  
Where beauty held the claim,  
I gave it like a secret grace  
The being of thy name._

_And all the charms of face or voice  
Which I in others see  
Are but the recollected choice  
Of what I felt for thee.’_

Master Malfoy claims it does not signify that MacD has in fact _repeatedly_ professed his profound love and admiration for his angelically splendid Ruibby; he urges MacD to transcribe the love poem onto a pretty card for his beloved.

MacD is willing to try anything once… and Master Draco _is_ widely considered to be attractive and suave (for a human, anyway). MacD applies himself to Master’s suggestion, post haste!

[*MacD whole-heartedly supports Master Draco if he pines for another Wizard; however, he does strenuously believe Young Master to be far superior to the likes of Mr Ronald Weasley].

_9.11PM_

**ALL HOPE IS LOST**.

MacD witnesses his One True Love marching into the kitchen to distribute her red roses to the other staff – Ruibby goes so far as to give a perfect bud to _Kevyn_!!!

Master Draco finds MacD suffering from hay fever in the Zabelle salon and offers his handkerchief to stem the flow of irritant tears, reassuring MacD that his prepossessing Ruibby does not truly intend to crush his spirits and soul with her arctic responses, but mayhap she is simply yet to fully process her complex feelings… MacD remains unconvinced.

Master Draco says to concentrate on being the best elf MacD can ever be: not for the sake of his Ruibby, and not because anybody ‘deserves’ love; but because building good character is priceless, and its own reward.

MacD asks Master Draco if he believes _he_ will ever find true love, to which Master brusquely replies, “Love isn’t a dropped glove, Macdolas. I’m not going to open my door one day to miraculously find the woman of my dreams standing there.” He barrels out of the salon after curtly bidding MacD goodnight.

MacD returns to his chambers to bathe his sore eyes before completing his final rounds of the Manor.

_10.02PM_

** HOPE YET LIVES! **

MacD passes by the lesser scullery and spots his darlingest Ruibby carefully arranging a lone red rose in a slim crystal vase (from MacD’s original bunch, as identified by the dried bloodstain on the lower petal)! She peruses MacD’s painstakingly transcribed poem, bequeathing it a precious kiss before refolding and slipping it back into her copious apron pocket! Moreover, MacD’s hard-working honeybunny wears the gifted amethyst hair clips beneath her coiled blonde braids – they winkle and glint in the tender lamplight that lovingly bathes her dove-soft face.

MacD must lay down quill and parchment, his happiness knows no bounds and verily _itches_ to be expressed in interpretive dance!!!

_10.10PM_

Ex-Lord Malfoy cruelly cuts short MacD’s exultant dance by coming to his door and threatening to use the gardening shears to cut off MacD’s ‘grotesque, hairy toes’ if he does not cease ‘stomping about heavily enough to wake the dead!’. MacD considers asking the _deathly pale_ ex-Lord Malfoy if he speaks from personal experience of being roused from slumber in just such a fashion, but thinks better of displaying such acerbity in the midst of his ongoing Ruibby-based jubilation.

Though his dearest Ruibby still refuses to formally accept MacD’s fervent suit, her tiny softening (much like a slab of good yellow butter put out to thaw on a sun-lit windowsill) makes his full heart sing with love, and renewed hope for the future.

MacD retires to bed, to dream of his blonde belle (after working on a few more of his singular romantic limericks).

_Goodnight, MacD’s kindred-soul and heart’s desire: the exquisite, incomparable, stupendous Ruibby._

_Macdolas will forever be…_

_Your eternally enamoured elf._


End file.
